


the rush of blood is not enough

by LibbyLune



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alpha Luffy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Sanji, this is a fic wherein Sanji is sex-repulsed and Luffy is asexual and they still make it work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyLune/pseuds/LibbyLune
Summary: Sanji has always known that being an Omega is the only reason anyone would want him, but despite being an Alpha, all Luffy seems interested in is food.  That suits Sanji just fine, but there's still somethingoffabout it.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 13
Kudos: 167





	the rush of blood is not enough

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello honestly idk what happened here but it's _not_ a standard smutty a/b/o story, please mind the feels

Sanji has always known that being an Omega is the only reason anyone would want him.

It’s a paradox. After all, that’s the reason Judge hated him so much, too. One of many, but certainly one he vocalized often, and usually accompanied by rants about how marrying Sanji off would be the only possible use for him. A weak, biologically submissive son was anathema to the Vinsmokes, even if a male Omega is a valuable rarity.

Well, eventually the hate won out over that single possible use. So really, even that isn’t enough to make Sanji _wanted_ , but he still held out some hope that, away from Judge’s militant upbringing, he could at least get away from the hate.

After all that, it doesn’t matter if Zeff’s kindness is prickly and rare. Even if he isn’t wanted, Sanji learns to be _useful_ , and for a while, that’s enough. He helps in the kitchen, and learns to cook, and finally learns to cook _well_ , even if the old man never admits as much. Sanji will never be able to repay Zeff for the sacrifice he made to save him, but that’s okay. The gruff nods when Zeff tastes his food and approves are more acknowledgment than Sanji has ever allowed himself to expect.

He’s still an Omega, but Zeff doesn’t talk about secondary presentations any more than he talks about trauma, so it’s never mentioned. Once he’s old enough, Sanji holes up in a storage room far from the staff’s living quarters to shiver through his heats, and learns to fend off unpleasant comments when he waits tables, and that’s all.

~o~

“Join my crew,” Luffy demands, with the first real whiff of Alpha that Sanji has felt from him. This is the first, but Sanji understands why the rest of his crew follows such an odd captain soon enough - as Luffy stands up against Kreig and saves the Baratie, it’s clear that this strange boy is an Alpha to be respected.

Luffy asks again, and Sanji’s head is spinning so harshly he can hardly process the request. It _is_ a request, as much as Luffy phrases it as a demand; Sanji can’t imagine this boy actually forcing him, no matter his antics in trying to convince Sanji to come along.

For years, Sanji has known this is his other choice. He can stay at the Baratie, like he _should_ , to repay Zeff. Or he can leave, accept some Alpha’s invitation and live out on the seas that way. Enough diners at the restaurant have _offered_ that Sanji has no illusions about facing the world alone. 

He’s been safe here, under Zeff’s watchful eye and the strength of his own legs, knowing that the old man will back him up. If he has to sail under an Alpha’s control, he could do worse than this odd rubber boy, with his guileless smile.

“I want to be clear,” Sanji says, as they sail away from the Baratie. He can’t look back and risk crying again, and he wants to start this new relationship on the right foot. “Did you ask me to join you as your Omega?”

His captain tilts his head, a curious frown on his face. “Sanji is my cook.”

“Right,” Sanji hesitates, “but you don’t have… You know I’m an Omega, right? You’re my captain now, and as an Alpha, I thought you’d expect… “

“Oh!” Luffy laughs. “Shishishi! No! That’s boring. Sanji is my cook, and my friend, and if anybody messes with you I’ll beat them up! But all that bonding stuff sounds messy and kinda gross, doesn’t it? Sex?”

Maybe Luffy is younger than he first thought, Sanji muses, watching his captain wrinkle his nose and get distracted by a passing bird. But he smells like a mature Alpha, that edge of _something_ that makes the Omega side of Sanji want to roll over. Whatever the case may be, Sanji is deeply relieved to hear Luffy’s disinterest.

He agrees with Luffy, after all. Nothing Sanji does will stop his body’s reactions - especially when he’s approaching his heats, the suppressants he takes to keep everything regular can only smooth things down so much - but the idea of acting on those instincts repulses him. To let someone else so close when his own hormones have already ruined his control, well. It sounds like a surrender Sanji has no taste for.

“You got it,” Sanji promises. “I’ll be the best cook you’ve ever imagined, captain.”

It would be unfair for Luffy to have an appetite for more than food, with the wild, unstoppable, ravenous way he eats. Sanji puts the issue out of his head, aside from wondering at his luck, to have landed with such a free-spirited crew.

~o~

It’s a crew of no less than three alphas and a single beta, which is odd enough; then Princess Vivi makes four and they add a _reindeer_ and then the magnificent Nico Robin, who takes suppressants so strong Sanji has no clue what her secondary presentation is. Sanji fights alongside his Alpha crewmates, protects them just as much as they protect him, and knows that they respect him just the same, but no amount of their respect changes what strangers think of him.

They fight other pirate crews, and drink in ramshackle island bars with them, and Sanji gets the same comments every time. An Omega shouldn’t fight, shouldn’t drink and yell and argue, should wait obediently below decks until one of his Alphas needs some _stress relief_. It’s even worse when they learn that Sanji is the ship cook, or when he bickers with Zoro in front of strangers, or when Luffy drapes himself all across Sanji’s shoulders and nuzzles against his neck, the most possessive gesture imaginable from an Alpha who has never looked at Sanji for more than food.

Not that any of them have. After Vivi, it’s obvious why Nami never showed a flicker of interest - Sanji may be an untouched Omega, the penultimate temptation for any unbonded Alpha, but he is still a man. Nami prefers women, and other Alpha women besides. Sanji doesn’t have such an easy explanation for Zoro’s disinterest, but he gets one after a particularly nasty evening ashore.

“Y’know, shit-cook, I forget you even are,” Zoro says, apropos of nothing as Nami chases Luffy down the street, the two of them following behind peacefully for once.

“That I’m what, marimo,” Sanji sighs, lighting another cigarette. Maybe after chain-smoking the rest of this pack he’ll feel calmer about the shit people said to him tonight. Nami prevented Luffy from starting a brawl, lovely, commanding, _practical_ woman that she is, but it does leave Sanji feeling unclean, with unresolved anger swirling in his chest.

“Not an Alpha,” the swordsman shrugs. “Sure act like one, curly.”

“How I act doesn’t change anything,” Sanji mutters. Good behavior never earned him affection, and belligerence only makes the vitriol worse.

“Sure it does,” Zoro challenges. “You’re your own person, idiot. If those losers knew the first thing about you, they wouldn’t say shit like that. As if you’d ever settle for being some domestic Omega.”

“But you can still… I mean, it’s instinct, right? You can still smell it on me, just like I can always smell your gross Alpha sweat. You can’t tell me you never notice.”

Zoro scrubs a hand through his mossy hair, staring up at the clouds skating across the crescent moon. “Whatever. You’re crew. We’re, you know, rivals, and that’s more important than dumb animal instinct. You better believe I’m stronger than that, love-cook; if I’m gonna be the world’s greatest swordsman, I can’t let little things distract me.”

Little things like biological imperative. Sanji doesn’t know why he’s surprised. Zoro doesn’t believe in gods or devils, so of course he won’t bow to irrelevant details like the inherent drive built into his very genes. The marimo’s simplicity is reassuring.

“Besides,” Zoro continues, sneaking a glance at him. “You smell weird, curly.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sanji demands, danger creeping into his tone despite the comfort he’s taking from this conversation.

“It’s _weird_ ,” Zoro impatiently repeats. “Like, I dunno, like I’d be a bad Alpha if I touched you. As if I care about that. It’s not even the way you always smell like Luffy, but I’m not gonna mess with that either. It’s just, you smell like you don’t want it, even when you’re starting your heats.”

The marimo makes a face, eyeing Sanji like he’s expecting a kick. Sanji only sighs; of course this idiot would have some kind of super-sensitive nose even though he rejects the entire concept of Alpha instincts. 

Sanji wouldn’t expect that feeling to be something other people could smell on him. He can’t help the restless, needy, oversensitive way he feels during his heat cycles, but the idea of anyone actually touching him during those times makes his skin crawl, even while he’s out of his mind with wanting just that. Even during the moments when he’s closest to letting his secondary sex take over, he can’t do it right.

“Thanks, shit-swordsman,” Sanji says, earning an even more suspicious glare from Zoro.

“For what?”

“Being such a muscle-brained idiot that you can’t even recognize an amazingly handsome, eligible Omega right under your mossy Alpha nose. I’d be too good for you anyway.”

Sanji smirks, Zoro growls, and soon enough the two of them catch up to Luffy and Nami, the clang of shoe against sword heralding their approach.

~o~

Sanji has been lucky so far. Since joining the crew, he’s only gone into heat when they’ve been ashore, and he could find a room somewhere that caters to that kind of thing. An impersonal place to ride it out. Such mercy can’t possibly last, not from the universe than made Sanji this way in the first place. This time, his heat starts with nothing but the vast ocean on every horizon.

He’s shaking by the time he has meals for the next few days all prepared, leaving it until the last possible second to stop taking care of his crew, even though he flinches every time one of them comes too close. What if there isn’t enough food, what if they need him; maybe he can sneak up during the night to check -

“Thank you, Sanji-kun,” Nami firmly says, taking the last wrapped packet from him before he can puncture it with his clenching nails.

Sanji nearly drops it, jerking away before she can so much as brush against his hands. “I can make more, if -”

“I’ll keep Luffy out of the kitchen,” Nami promises. “Stay put until it’s over. That’s an order.”

Nodding, Sanji wraps his arms around himself and shivers under her piercing stare. Maybe Nami can smell the same things Zoro can, that Sanji can’t even fall apart correctly, that he can’t relax and be a good Omega even now -

“Actually, wait here a minute,” she demands, whirling out of the galley.

“Why can’t I go in, I want to see Sanji -” Luffy’s voice floats through the door, fading after the sound of a scuffle and dragging feet.

“Leave him alone, you’d only be a pain,” Nami says, her sharp tones carrying more easily as she hauls their captain away.

Sanji can’t imagine what Nami wants, but he’ll wait as long as she needs him to, no matter the restlessness overwhelming his mind. This much he can do, but she comes back right away, before Sanji can get too anxious about her absence.

“Take this to the storage room with you,” Nami directs, holding out a blanket. It’s one they often use during watch, when it’s too cold to be up in the open air of the crow's nest.

There are plenty of blankets already in the corner of the storage hold that Nami set up for seclusion, even if no one has needed the space yet, and Sanji is the only one who would. He doesn’t need much, and he can’t bear the thought of inconveniencing the others, of making them worry, of letting one of them be cold because he took this blanket too -

“It smells like us,” Nami says, thrusting it at him. “Might help.”

He can’t say no to her, so Sanji takes the blanket. As soon as he touches it he knows she’s right. He’s always spent his heats alone and isn’t ready for that to change, but even just holding this ratty blanket, rich with the scents of his crew, settles something in that whirling mess of discomfort.

“I’ll be back to work as soon as possible, mellorine,” Sanji manages, clutching the blanket to his chest.

Nami nods, hands on her hips. “Don’t push yourself, Sanji-kun. Now get out of here; you reek.”

With a wobbly smile, Sanji sneaks out and makes it below decks without seeing anyone else, although he can hear Luffy whining as he passes the boy’s bunk, Zoro’s aggravated grumbling filling in the gaps. The musty corner of the storage hold is welcoming, safe and dim and close, the makeshift wall of spare planks and empty crates creating a nest that feels like the most secure place in the world at this moment.

Burying his nose in the blanket, Sanji can almost pretend he isn’t alone. He _wants_ to be alone, but with his instincts crying out for company, the illusion of having his crew close is comforting. It’s still a terrible night and worse day afterward, but the scents make it easier to recall the concern under Nami’s commanding tone, Zoro’s stone-willed determination to treat Sanji like anyone else, and Luffy’s cheerful, greedy disregard for both nature and societal conventions. Sanji may not have an Alpha _here_ to help him through his heat, but he has _three_ keeping their respectful distance out on deck, and that’s much more important.

~o~

He never feels _good_ after a heat, but Sanji is in better spirits than usual when he comes out of the storage hold. He feels ready to face everyone, instead of sore and raw-nerved and touchy, as he often does after isolating himself.

The first person he finds is Luffy, sitting sullen at the top of the stairs down to the storage hold, growing out at the ocean with an uncharacteristic lack of excitement.

“Captain,” Sanji says, bemused, and Luffy jumps up, rubbing his nose.

Triple-wrapping his arms around Sanji, Luffy takes a deep breath before whining into his shirt. “It’s boring without Sanji, no one would let me come down, and I want a snack.”

Self-conscious of how he must smell, not to mention the blanket he wasn’t quite ready to leave behind, Sanji still doesn’t bother trying to get Luffy off of him. There’s no point when his captain is like this.

“I left you plenty of food,” Sanji reminds him, patting Luffy’s arm as best he can with his limited mobility.

“It’s not the same,” Luffy says.

“I guess,” Sanji shrugs. “But you’ll have to let go of me if you want a snack. I need to clean up first.”

“No,” Luffy grumbles, letting go of Sanji and pulling the blanket away from him.

“Give that back,” Sanji sighs. “Let me start the laundry, and then I’ll make you the best snack ever, okay?”

“It smells like Sanji,” their captain says, gripping the blanket over his head like a hood.

Weird, but when is Luffy not. “Right,” Sanji says, “that’s why I need to wash it, so the rest of you can use it again.”

“I like it this way,” Luffy pouts.

Sanji hesitates. It’s hardly _normal_ Alpha behavior, but it’s the closest thing Sanji has seen from Luffy, as far as interest in him as an Omega is concerned.

He could do this for Luffy, probably. Be a good Omega, let his Alpha captain take charge of him. It’s what he expected from the beginning, after all. Maybe Luffy is only now coming to understand that side of his instincts, to want the things most Alphas do.

“Why?” Sanji asks.

“Sanji is mine,” Luffy mutters, looking away.

“Yes,” Sanji slowly says, “but do you want -”

“I want a snack,” Luffy interrupts. “Sanji was gone for so long! I’m hungry.”

Giving up on the laundry for now, Sanji agrees. Washing up will just have to wait an hour, and if anyone says anything, he’ll kick their ass. 

Luffy sticks close to Sanji’s side until they reach the galley, but once inside his captain is strangely well-behaved. Instead of rattling off the walls and trying to steal ingredients, Luffy sits on the edge of the counter, not something Sanji would usually allow, and waits quietly. It’s a small infraction, especially when Sanji is just as eager for a little closeness, so he doesn’t snap at Luffy to get his feet on the floor. It feels right to be with his captain, no matter how oddly he’s acting.

The others appear quickly once they realize Sanji is back above-decks. Zoro makes a face at him and tells him to go wash up, but in a nearly fond tone of voice; Usopp scurries through the galley with his arms full of tools and mutters _oh thank god you’re back_ ; Robin appears in the kitchen for a cup of tea well outside of her usual times. Nami shuts Chopper up when he immediately starts fussing over Sanji, and she bullies Luffy into letting Sanji leave for the bathroom once he’s gotten a snack.

Their captain stays clingy for another day or two after that, but Sanji chalks it up to the food scare. Now that he has a full-time cook, it only makes sense for Luffy to get pouty if he has to go a few days without being catered to. No one else seems to think it odd, even if Zoro rolls his eyes at them more than usual, and life goes on.

~o~

Life takes them up into the sky and back down again, and Sanji doesn’t know why he’s still surprised. Each one of their adventures is more far-fetched than the last - that’s a pattern, but not one he can anticipate. Not any more than he can anticipate Luffy, beyond the clockwork demands for food and excitement.

“What does it feel like?” Luffy demands. Mid-afternoon, in the galley; a usual time and place for a request, and Sanji is already putting a snack together. He’s ready for food, not… whatever this is.

“What?”

“Sanji’s heats,” Luffy explains, as if it should have been obvious. But Sanji still can’t read his captain’s mind, no matter how straightforward Luffy can be. This must seem simple to him, but Sanji cannot fathom why Luffy would ask him about that.

“You must know,” Sanji stalls. It’s not something he can explain, and not something he wants Luffy to think about. It’s Sanji’s problem to bear.

“No, I don’t know, but I want to understand how Sanji feels,” Luffy impatiently says. “I don’t feel any of that.”

“None of it,” Sanji repeats. By now he’s sure Luffy is wrong, that his captain feels at least some of the protective, possessive drives all alphas carry, even if Luffy doesn’t express that in any familiar way.

This sudden interest in Sanji’s heats is much more complicated. How can Sanji explain to Luffy that the things his body wants make him sick, that he _needs_ attention and can’t stomach the thought of it? Luffy has never experienced a contradiction like that in his life - if he wants something, he takes it; if he doesn’t, he won’t. He doesn’t want Sanji’s Omega side, or they would already have a bond, so why the questions?

“Tell me,” Luffy demands, again.

It’s a kind of fire that’s hard to put out, not under Sanji’s control like all the heat in his kitchen, wilder than the bonfires the crew danced around with the wolves in Skypeia. The blood in his veins seems to burn, the heat rushing to escape in any way possible. It’s a feeling that he’s running out of time, that he’s _wrong_ , that if he could only turn off his mind everything would be fine, if he could only let go of the space and the independence he’s worked so hard for - 

“Hot,” Sanji says, shaking the tangled thoughts out of his head. He may not be able to read Luffy’s mind, but their captain can always see through him. Luffy will know if Sanji can’t get himself under control.

Frowning at him, Luffy crosses his arms over his chest and plants himself on the counter next to Sanji. There’s no getting out of this conversation. Sanji will have to give him more - not that it is difficult for him, to give Luffy anything and everything, but he doesn’t want to give his captain unnecessary burdens.

“Stressful,” Sanji admits. “I worry that you’ll need me, that something will happen and I won’t be there. I worry that it will make you uncomfortable if you have to smell me, or -”

“But what is it like for _Sanji_ ,” Luffy presses. “That’s all about us.”

“Lonely,” Sanji blurts out, clenching his teeth against the word, but too late.

Luffy scoots a little closer, peering into Sanji’s eyes. As much as he wants to turn away, Sanji can’t - the command is silent, but it’s definitely there. Now that Luffy has decided to figure this out, he won’t be stopped.

“But Sanji always leaves,” Luffy says, a tiny furrow between his eyebrows. “Nami and Zoro always stop me from trying to come down there.”

“Why do you want to?” His voice sounds helpless, sounds needy and pathetic, rather than frustrated and dismissive as he intended, so Sanji tries again. “You’ve said it before, shitty captain. You don’t want anything to do with Omegas and heats.”

“No,” Luffy frowns. “But Sanji isn’t… Sanji is different. I want - ”

Sanji needs this conversation to end. It’s too confusing, too contradictory. He’s never had an Alpha care about _him_ , care about his comfort rather than their own. That’s what made it so easy to turn them all down with as much force as necessary, every moment of his life until this one. He wants to tell Luffy yes, he can be Sanji’s Alpha, he can share Sanji’s heat in whatever way he wants, and he knows that Luffy doesn’t _want_ that. 

“You don’t, and I’m not,” he brusquely says. “It’d be messy and gross and you’d hate it, stupid. I’m not a good Omega, anyway; I don’t know how to do it right.” Pushing past his captain’s disappointed eyes, he yanks the door open and yells for the others. A snack will make Luffy forget all about this.

~o~

Franky is another with a scent so strange Sanji can’t guess what he might be under all the mechanical oil and bravado. Still, he’s very sympathetic as he alters the Thousand Sunny’s blueprints to include a private room, deep in the hold, where Sanji can hide away for his heats. 

He’s coming up on one when they enter the Florian Triangle. Glad as he is that it didn’t hit while Robin’s life was on the line, Sanji can only hope they finish their business on the horrific floating mass of Thriller Bark quickly. He’s vibrating out of his skin and Zoro won’t look him in the eye, right up until the infuriating, _idiot_ Alpha knocks him unconscious.

It’s only natural. Sanji doesn’t have time to really think about whether Zoro would have done the same - _protected_ Sanji like that - if he didn’t already reek to high heaven, all pheromones demanding Alpha attention. It’s a question for another day, once the swordsman is out of bed. For now, all Sanji can muster is irritation, and bone-deep relief that they all made it out alive. Damn marimo is pretty reliable when it counts.

He sneaks down to the private room and rather thinks that will be the end of it. Luffy has been spending a lot of time watching Chopper tend to Zoro in the infirmary, the others know better than to meddle, and there’s plenty of food for the next few days. They’ll realize where he is easily enough. 

Sanji steals a blanket out of the crow’s nest, and if it’s the one Luffy prefers above everyone else, what does it matter? By now he knows none of the others will embarrass him about it.

It’s a terrible heat. The weakness hits him hard almost as soon as Sanji can get the door closed behind himself, instinctive need liquifying his knees as he stumbles to the bed. Someone has piled it high with blankets, but they’re all new and scentless, useless compared to the one Sanji brought down with him.

Pushing the other blankets around until he can curl up in the middle of them, _his_ blanket clutched tight to his chest, Sanji barely has the presence of mind to get his shoes off first. At least the new blankets are soft and comforting, satisfying as a barrier to keep the rest of the world away.

He’ll wait it out like he always does, pull himself together and get back to work before anyone can think to wonder why they keep him around, when he’s all but helpless for days every couple of months, before they can decide that really, his cooking isn’t _that_ good and they don’t want to coddle him, that it’s weird, after all, that he needs so much support from all three Alphas on the crew but won’t take any of them to bed -

“Sanji?”

The plaintive voice cuts through Sanji’s spiraling thoughts, the relief so abrupt it makes him gasp. Outside the door, Luffy whines in response.

“Sanji, I want to help,” Luffy whines. “I don’t like it that Sanji is sad all alone.”

“I’m not just _sad_ , idiot,” he mutters, pressing his forehead into the mattress with all the energy his body is demanding be spent leaping to open the door. “Go take care of the moss-brained swordsman. I’m fine.”

“Zoro has Chopper,” Luffy retorts, confidence outweighing the whine in his voice more and more with every word. “Sanji doesn’t have anybody. I can’t do anything for Zoro, but I want to be with Sanji. I can help.”

Sanji sits up in his nest of blankets, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Luffy never does anything he doesn’t want to do, and is frankly excessive in driving everyone around him to grab what they want with both hands. There’s no chance that Luffy is _lying_ about wanting to help, even if the idea is incomprehensible to Sanji.

“Okay,” he says.

The door isn’t locked. Luffy doesn’t hesitate to open it, crossing the room to sit knee-to-knee with Sanji on the bed in a flash. Just seeing his expectant smile puts Sanji more at ease.

“Now what?” Luffy asks, and Sanji realizes that this is going to be awfully, terrifically awkward.

Reaching for his captain, Sanji gives up on trying to plan and analyze and _worry_. They’ll figure it out. Luffy never follows a plan anyway.

“Hold me,” he demands. “Closer.”

Luffy scrambles closer, climbing into Sanji’s lap and tucking his chin over his shoulder. Sanji focuses on breathing, on the weird rubbery scent of his captain, and waits for the revulsion he usually feels when he imagines being this close to anyone.

It doesn’t come. No disgust, no panic, just a tugging desire for more.

“Sanji is good,” Luffy announces, clumsily petting his hair. “I don’t know what an Omega should do, but Sanji is the best.”

It takes Sanji a moment to remember their last conversation about all this, and when he does, tears spring unbidden to his eyes. Angrily brushing them away, he hides his expression against Luffy’s neck.

“Shitty captain,” he mumbles. Luffy snickers.

“Should we take our clothes off?”

The honest curiosity in his voice makes Sanji choke on a laugh. “Probably.”

Luffy leans away, and that makes the desperation come back full-force. Biting back a pathetic noise, Sanji shrugs out of his clothes as fast as he can and pulls Luffy back, placing himself in his captain’s lap this time.

He’s taller than Luffy, and that’s awkward too, reminds Sanji that an Omega is supposed to be delicate and small, but of course Luffy doesn’t seem to notice or care. Giggling against his skin, Luffy dumps him on his back in the mussed blanket nest and curls up around Sanji, obliviously pressing against every sensitive spot.

Sanji has always figured that people over-exaggerate it, the desire for sex. That everyone except him has agreed to pretend that it’s the greatest thing in the world. He could never have predicted this relief, the glittering warmth everywhere Luffy is touching him, and the two of them are barely doing anything. The feeling of Luffy’s heart beating so close to Sanji’s own is a perfect anchor for Sanji’s tumultuous thoughts.

The rest… isn’t so bad. Neither of them has done this before, but Luffy is so genuine and earnest in his curiosity that Sanji can’t feel ashamed, and at some point instinct takes over, despite neither of them having a good grasp of following those in the first place. Sanji knows he’ll remember the look of concentration on Luffy’s face as he entered him, rather than the hesitant flinch of his own body; he’ll remember Luffy’s gently possessive hands, not their matching expressions of disgust after trying to kiss.

Knowing that Luffy is doing this only for Sanji’s sake is almost too much. That’s what sticks with him, even as Sanji comes down feeling calm, for maybe the first time during any heat. That Luffy cares about him enough to do this, when he’s never felt the urge for himself...

“I’m sorry to need you this way,” Sanji mumbles.

The worst part is, he’s not sorry at all. For once, Sanji feels comfortable in his body, sated in a way he’s never been before, and even though Luffy takes no real pleasure in the act, Sanji can only feel grateful that his captain is willing to go through with it anyway. For once, that awful pressing heat is warmly comforting, instead of an itching inferno just out of reach beneath his skin.

“Why?” Luffy asks, sleepily nuzzling into Sanji’s hair.

 _I wish I was an Alpha like you_ , Sanji remembers saying, sobbing into Reiju’s arms as he teetered on the edge of escape. _If I was, maybe Father would love me, too._

“I know you’ve never wanted an Omega partner, or to have to do this kind of stuff,” Sanji mutters. They’ve had this conversation before. Luffy won’t understand Sanji’s crooked almost-guilt, but he still needs to try explaining. “It would be easier if I was an Alpha like the rest of you.”

 _It doesn’t matter what you are_ , Reiju had responded, tears running down her cheeks. _He would find a reason to hate you anyway_.

“It doesn’t matter,” Luffy says. “Sanji is mine. It doesn’t matter what Sanji is, I love you anyway. No matter what.”

“But that’s -” Sanji begins, his voice wavering.

“Is Sanji happy?” Luffy interrupts. “Right now?”

“Yes,” Sanji breathes.

“Then I’m happy,” his captain declares. “And I like this, and I want to do it again, to make Sanji happy.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Sanji can’t imagine it, anyone offering to put themselves out to keep him content. Luffy doesn’t get anything out of this, why would he -

“Stupid,” Luffy mutters, nosing against Sanji’s neck. “Stop. Stop thinking, captain’s orders.”

“Just captain's orders?” Sanji hesitates to ask, but from the rest of what Luffy is saying, it sounds like…

“Alpha’s orders?” Luffy tries, wrinkling his nose at the sound of it. Sanji almost laughs too; it sounds weird, to apply to them. 

“You’ll bond me later,” Sanji tells him, and closes his eyes. It’s too much to think about when the solution is obvious. In hindsight, it’s stupid that they didn’t reach this point sooner. There’s no reason for the two of them to treat it the way the world expects. 

Luffy mumbles an agreement, and holds Sanji tighter. It’s as much of an answer as he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still insecure about writing Luffy for more than a few paragraphs at a time, so if anything feels odd I'd be interested to hear about it! Thanks for reading~
> 
> You can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/libbylune)!


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